


Saudade

by pitchblack



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Floris | Fundy Needs A Hug, Hurt/Comfort, Other, Sad Floris | Fundy, i bet on loosing dogs (mitski) somewhat not rlly song fic, not very good its 3am, yeah i wrote more angst. so what
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 09:59:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29151621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pitchblack/pseuds/pitchblack
Summary: My baby, my baby. You're my baby, say it to me.
Relationships: Floris | Fundy & Phil Watson, platonic - Relationship
Kudos: 34





	Saudade

It was one of those nights. One of those nights where it was, for some reason, 10x harder to cope with Wilbur's death then it normally was. Wilbur's death had always been a sensitive subject for him, but right now was different. Right now, he couldn't escape from his thoughts. There was no where to go. Nothing to distract him. It was just him and his thoughts, alone.

If he was going to think about Wilbur, he wanted to at least make it good memories. Something that, instead of pocking and prodding at every inch of his being, made him feel like Wilbur never spiraled into insanity. That Wilbur was still the dad who'd take him fishing and let him sit on his shoulders. A time before Wilbur started to patronize and belittle him. 

Fundy sighed, exaggerating his frustration before stepping over to his ender chest and peeping open the lid. He gently took out a small camera, something that looked like it came from the 1950s. Despite how cheap and rusty it looked, it was sealed in a fancy black cushioned container, treated like it was glass. Fundy took out the camera with great care, shutting his chest and plopping back down on his bed. He tapped the side button which brought him to the photo and video gallery. He scrolled to the very beginning.

Most of the starting videos were videos Phil had taken of Wilbur. Wilbur was a very playful and energetic child, often blabbering about his day or his toy cars (who he had given names too and treated like they were real people). It was bittersweet. The pain was oddly comforting.

He scrolled further and further until he seemed to have found the last video that was taken by Phil of Wilbur. He remembered Wilbur telling him once that this was the day he moved out. Shaking his head, Fundy played the video.

_"My baby, my baby. You're my baby, say it to me."_

_Phil ruffled Wilbur's hair._

_Wilbur laughed it off, "Stooop! You're acting like I'm about to die... I'll visit you soon, okay dad?"  
_

_"Alright, Wil. But that's a promise. I have video evidence."_

_Wilbur laughed. The video ended._

_Oh._ Fundy didn't know how to process it, so in an attempt to escape he scrolled to the next video and pressed play.

_Baby Fundy was wrapped in a blanket and tucked into Wilbur's arms._

_Wilbur started to hum. "My baby, my baby. You're my baby, say it to me."_

_The video ended._

Oh. **Oh.** Maybe that's why it was hard for him to process. 

Fundy didn't know what to do. His heart was racing, his head swirling as his breath wavered in his chest. In a panic, he stood up and threw the camera onto his mattress and slung on his jacket as quick as his nimble fingers could take him. Sliding on his boots, he darted out the door with only one thought in mind.

_I need to see Phil._

He continued to think as he trudged through the snow. _I need to see Phil. I need to hear... I need to hear those words again._

Fundy finally arrived. He pounded on Phil's door, hoping, _begging_ for some kind of response. What time was it? He didn't even begin to think of the time, oh fuck, what if he was asleep-

"Fundy?" Phil creaked open the door, an annoyed look on his face.

And then he shattered. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry- I know you have every reason to shut the door on my face right now but I-" Fundy hiccupped, stumbling over his words. "I know you do but please, please just- just hear me out. You see, I was- I was uh. Watching old videos. And you sung something to Wilbur, and he used to sing that to me to and I just- I-"

  
"You need to hear it again?" Phil finished for him.

"Y-Yes! Exactly that! I really am sorry, Phil, It's late and you hate me and I-"  
  
  


Fundy suddenly was pulled inside by Phil. It took him a few moments to calibrate the sudden motion.

Before Fundy could say anything, Phil started. "Fundy, I know we aren't on the best terms, but I'm not going to leave you out in the cold begging. I'm still your grandfather, in the end, if I like it or not." Phil stepped over him and wrapped his arms gently around him, squeezing gently. "It's been hard for me to cope with his death, too. So um... if it helps," Phil started to hum, _"My baby, my baby. You're my baby, say it to me."_


End file.
